


Pink Champagne

by starstruck1986



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 08:52:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruck1986/pseuds/starstruck1986
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warnings: Threesome, language, angst, fluff.<br/>Summary: Hot date to a hot ball? Check. Copious amounts of free alcohol? Check. Waking up next to your ex-Professor? ... Harry and Ron have a very, very strange day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Champagne

  
**Pink Champagne**

Blissed out, Ron stretched his body until he felt his muscles pulling and his joints threatening to creak. He groaned as he relaxed, snuggling further into the warm body next to him. He didn't even think as he blindly pressed his lips against a stubbled cheek and kissed there. He nuzzled with his face until he was roughly at neck level and playfully began to nip.

The moan which answered him, however, was not the one that he was expecting. Ron froze and sniffed lightly at the air. The scent was all wrong; Harry smelt of wood and something slightly sweet; the smell in his nostrils smelt of tea and herbs –definitely not his Harry.

_What did I do last night? Think. Come on Weasley, think!_

In the blur of memories from the Ministry ball the evening before, Ron remembered a lot of alcohol, shameless flirting to keep himself entertained, and Harry looking gorgeous in his dress robes and glittering eyes. He got lost in thoughts about that and forgot his predicament for a few seconds, until the body next to him shifted and pulled him possessively towards it. Ron didn't protest; he was merely too scared to open his eyes and see who was doing the pulling.

When his crotch collided with another -a crotch which sported an impressive hard-on- he gasped slightly, and in doing so, his eyes opened involuntarily. A pair of dark, deep eyes stared back at him. Straight black hair fell around a thin face, and Ron focussed on it.

_Definitely not Harry._

The face came towards him and kissed him wetly on the mouth; in surprise Ron opened his jaws further and a tongue slid between his teeth. His moan of surprise was muffled as he began to kiss back, unable to help himself despite his utter confusion and worry. A hand stroked down the length of his spine.

_So, completely starkers then._

Fingers dipped into the cleft of his buttocks and stroked. Ron closed his eyes as his cock began to fill, nudging hard against its counterpart on the other man.

Two things then happened at once. As a fingertip brushed over his anus, Ron felt the nose nudging against his own in their kiss. It was an odd shape, slightly hooked.

_Black eyes. Black hair. Awful nose._

“Fuck!” Ron cried ungracefully, launching himself backwards out of the bed.

The floor was ridiculously hard as he landed on his backside, naked limbs splayed on the carpet and his hard cock poking him tellingly in the belly.

“Whozzat!”

Relief flooded Ron's chest as Harry's startled voice filled the room. Perhaps, he thought, it had all been a sleepy dream, and it really _had_ been Harry he'd been kissing, and not--

“Weasley, as pretty a picture as you make like that, perhaps you would be best served putting some clothes on if you plan on rolling around the floor for much longer?” .

Ron nearly choked as he looked up and saw Severus Snape peering over the edge of the bed at him, a slight smirk on his lips to accompany the drawling condescension he had just delivered. Over his shoulder, Harry's bleary face peered at Ron too, blinking rapidly, trying to see without his glasses.

“What's going on?” Ron asked weakly, desperately trying to sift through the flashes of the evening before that his memory had retained.

Neither of them answered him, but Snape eased from bed, his naked body thin and wiry in the dim light of the room. Ron was unable to tear his eyes away as the man shuffled towards a door in the corner of the room, and disappeared inside it. As soon as Ron heard the click of the lock, he catapulted himself back onto the bed and grabbed Harry by the shoulders.

“What the fuck is going on?” he whispered wildly, searching Harry's face. “What's Snape doing in bed with us? And where the fuck are we? And-”  
“Ron, you're getting hysterical,” Harry warned, his words bleeding into a yawn at the last. “Calm down.”  
“Calm down? I woke up and rubbed my cock against _Snape's!_ ”  
“That's nothing compared to what you were doing last night,” Harry pointed out, falling back onto his pillows.

Ron didn't like the sated grin on Harry's face; he didn't like it at all.

“Explain,” he ground out, closing his eyes and willing himself to breathe.

It had been a simple ball at the Ministry -a celebration, the best celebration of the year, in fact. The wizarding community had been sparkling. Harry, Ron and Hermione had attended in their usual positions of honour, Ron's entire family had been there, dressed in their best, the champagne had never stopped flowing.

_Pink champagne._

Ron remembered the taste of the fizz on this tongue and nearly groaned. It had been so delicious that, whilst it was free, he had thrown all his usual restrictions aside. He must have been drunk long before the trays with food started floating around,

“We were drunk,” Harry said nonchalantly, as if that explained everything.”  
“But how is Snape here?” Ron asked thickly, daring to open his eyes again.  
“Well... he was there... and we got to talking... and you made a really bad joke about wearing the trousers in our relationship, and Snape _laughed._ ”  
“At me or with me?” Ron winced.  
“At you,” Harry assured him. “But then he sort of changed. Loosened up. He'd had a lot of champagne too -something about getting through the 'infernal night'. Anyway, and then... I might have dragged you into a dark corner, because you were looking really good last night... touching you up... and he found us. Thought he was going to have a fit or something, his eyes went really wide. But like I said... he was drunk... so...”

“So what?” Ron whispered, horrified. “He joined in? Did I even want him there or do I have to kick his arse for abusing me-”

“On the contrary, Weasley,” Snape's clear voice sounded in the room. “Last night you seemed to very much want me to touch you, so if you dare consider bringing any kind of sexual harassment case against me, you will find yourself trounced by a swift dose of Veritaserum and a memory scan.”

Ron felt his face flush with colour as he turned; he hadn't heard Snape leave the bathroom, but the man stood in front of him, a towel wrapped demurely round his waist to hide his modesty. Sitting back on his heels, so that they poked into the flesh of his bum, Ron let his shoulders sag as he thought about what to say.

“But clearly, my presence is no longer welcome. I will shower and be on my way, and leave you two to... uh... discuss the events of the evening without interruption.”

“Wait,” Ron huffed. Suddenly, he felt exhausted. And sick. He hid a belch behind his hand and made a face when it tasted like vomit. “Just... wait.”

Lurching off the bed, Ron didn't think he was going to make it to the toilet before his guts tumbled out of his mouth. Luckily, nobody got in his way.

* * *

“He always forgets that his stomach can't take champagne,” Harry said apologetically in his direction.

Severus glanced up from the Muggle paper and gave Potter a nod of acknowledgement. He returned his eyes to the print as soon as possible. Weasley had passed out after throwing up and was currently tucked up in the bed which still smelt of their sweat and their sex, and Severus was seated on the small sofa by the window of the hotel room. In truth, he felt as rough as Weasley looked, and was as wholly ashamed and horrified by the night's events as Weasley, but he would be damned if he showed it to either of the younger men in the room.

He couldn't comprehend what had possessed him to crawl into bed with the pair, that thick and fast pair who clearly adored one another, who clearly would spend the rest of their lives fucking one another into happiness. A pang of jealousy curled in Severus' already-delicate stomach and he tried to concentrate on the paper. He detested the Muggle rag; it was the one his father used to read in his childhood. More often than not the rolled up remnants of the day's news had slammed hard into Severus' behind, or his mother's face, and then ended up discarded on the floor when a hand became favoured.

A sour taste rose in his mouth and Severus threw the paper away, disgusted. He glanced at Potter and was grateful to see that the boy was watching Weasley again, even though the redhead was asleep. Very pale, but asleep. Severus appreciated the shock he must have caused, though he hoped the vomit was merely the product of the immense night of drinking and not his appearance.

“Sorry about this.”

Harry climbed off the bed and padded towards him, eventually throwing himself down on the other end of the sofa. He was wearing just his underpants from the evening before, a loose, silky affair, and Severus tried to ignore how the fabric caressed the boy's skin.

“And sorry for how rude Ron was being... he's not... the best with surprises. Or change.”  
“Or waking up next to his ugly old Potions professor, no doubt,” Severus commented.  
“He didn't think you were ugly last night,” Harry said fairly. “And for the record, neither did I.”  
“Don't waste your time on assurances, Potter. I am big enough and ugly enough not to need them. You were both drunk, as was I, and I would be a fool to feel slighted over hints of regret.” An eyebrow quirked at the end of Snape's sentence.

_Then I'm a blasted fool, aren't I?_

He looked out of the window to prevent himself having to look at Potter again.

“Why did you... why did you get involved?”

Harry's question was softly put, but to Severus it was like a Sonorus spell blaring in the room. His mouth went dry as he searched for a suitable answer.

“I was drunk,” he said finally. “And when I am drunk... and lonely...” He winced at the confession. “I did something foolish, as men are prone to do when they are drunk, lonely, and foolish.”  
“I don't think it's foolish to look for company when you're lonely.”  
“But finding it in two young men who have been in an established relationship for years, Potter? Tell me, is that what you would regard as an intelligent decision?”  
“Alcohol makes intelligent decisions impossible,” Harry pointed out. “And we were all sloshed.”  
“I haven't been that drunk for many years,” Severus admitted.  
“So why last night?”

Severus didn't have answer for him. Luckily, at that moment, Weasley stirred in the bed and lifted his head blinking at the ceiling as he tried to make sense of what he was feeling.

“Your friend is awake,” Severus said, nodding at him. “And I will take my leave now.”  
“Severus?”

Ron's raspy voice surprised him, even more so when he realised that Weasley had used his given name, and not his surname.

“Hmm?” he asked, rising slowly to his feet and looking down at him in the bed.  
“C'mere,” Ron breathed, his eyes dozily falling shut as he nuzzled into the pillow.

Severus cast a wary glance at Harry, who was watching the exchange, bemused. He made a motion with his hand which was clearly permission, but Severus was unsure of whether to take it as such.

“Please...” Ron rasped again.

Severus knelt onto the bed with one knee and hovered over Weasley's face.

_Why are you here? Why aren't you running a mile?_

It was, Severus acknowledged, a very long time since he had run anywhere.

“What?” he asked awkwardly, watching as Ron's sapphire blue eyes came back into sight. They looked unfocussed and dazed.  
“Sorry I was rude,” Ron murmured, almost childishly. “I didn't... just... surprised. Don't like surprises.”  
“So Potter tells me.” Severus tried to keep his voice kind. “But that is understandable, I suppose. How do you feel?”  
“Like shit.”  
“That is also understandable.” Severus nodded.  
“Hungry.”  
“You're what?” Severus asked in surprise.

Potter's dry laugh from the other side of the room caught his attention.

“Seriously, the day he stops eating is the day I know he's dead.” He shook his head and rose to his feet. “I must feed my man.”

Severus snorted to hear The Boy Who Lived sounding so tied down.

“Would you like to join us for lunch?” Harry asked, stooping to pick up his robes. “We can go to the pub or we can make something at ours.”  
“Pub,” Ron grunted. “Need grease. Need that Muggle fizzy stuff that Charlie said works.”

Severus realised that he had been hovering over Weasley for too long, and pulled up, climbing from the bed. His knees ached. A flash of memory from the evening before of being on his hands and knees whilst Potter sucked his cock and Weasley rimmed him sent a jolt of heat through his body. He had fucked Potter whilst the boy sucked off Weasley, then they had reversed the positions. He'd had Weasley squirming in his lap whilst Potter filled the redhead's mouth with come. It had been a thoroughly debauched night, and Severus had never fallen asleep feeling so sated.

Both men were looking at him now, however, expecting an answer regarding their plans. Severus didn't know what he was still doing there. He should have run whilst Weasley was indisposed, and dodged their awkward questions and comments.

The truth of the matter was, however, that he had nothing to do. If he spent the day alone, he would merely berate himself for the night of pleasure he had indulged in, and confuse it with stupidity.

“Yes, thank you.”

* * *

Harry watched with amusement the look of widening horror on Severus' face as he watched Ron eating. He also knew the hungover, desperate look in Ron's expression, the expression which said _”If I don't eat, I will chunder again.”_

“Severus, your food is getting cold,” Harry pointed out with a smirk. “Ron's always been a pig, but it goes up about ten notches when he's hungover.”

“I'm dying,” Ron rasped through a mouthful of chips. He paused to snatch up his pint of Coke, Charlie's advised miracle drug, and gulped at it.

When he came out on the other side, he had a little more colour in his cheeks and his eyes looked less dazed.

“Better?” Harry grinned.  
“Yeah,” Ron mumbled, looking down at his plate. “Wow, I ate really quickly.”  
“You inhaled it,” Severus commented with raised eyebrows. “But then when I was your age I ate that way too.”

Harry was aware that both he and Ron were staring at the man, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. It sounded so odd to hear Snape, of all men, talking about himself as a young man. Harry thought about all the things that he would have been feeling and coping with and immediately felt guilty.

“In my house...” Ron cleared his throat. “If you didn't eat quick you didn't eat, always someone convinced you'd finished and then your dinner was gone and Mum...” Ron went pink around the ears with shame. “We didn't always have the money to be able to afford seconds when we were all kids.”

Harry stared. He had never known Ron to open up to a stranger, let alone over a table in a busy pub, whilst he was eating. In fact, it was odd for Ron to speak at all whilst there was still food left on his plate. Harry sent him a meaningful glance and waited for Ron to reply.

“What?” Ron blushed further. “It's just... talking, Harry.”  
“About stuff you never talk about.”  
“I was just making a contribution to the conversation,” Ron said through gritted teeth. Severus looked between then like he was watching a game of Muggle tennis. .  
“But-”  
“Would either of you like another drink?” Severus said suddenly, rising to his feet. The sound of his chair legs squealing on the floor made Harry jerk. “Excuse me.”

The man hurried away to the bar and Harry stared at his back.

“Smooth, Harry,” Ron muttered. “I was just making conversation.”  
“But you never make conversation.”  
“Harry, you're not going to get all “but Ron never makes conversation with _me_ ”, are you? I'm too hungover for jealousy right now.”  
“How very dare you.” Harry pretended to be outraged, hoping that it would disguise his actual hurt.  
“He was telling us something personal. I was trying to make him feel welcome?”

They stared at one another; Harry longed to reach over and wipe the tomato sauce from the corner of Ron's mouth.

“Drinks,” Severus said awkwardly as he returned, setting the trio of glasses down.  
“Thank you.” Harry cleared his throat and mustered a smile for Severus. “So... I wonder how many members of the Ministry woke up in the wrong beds this morning?”  
“Like myself, you mean?” Severus asked, spearing some food on his fork.

Harry felt himself growing red and couldn't look at Ron's smirking face.

“I just mean... there were a lot of people flirting with people they shouldn't have been flirting with.”  
“Would you like a shovel, Potter, or are you content to dig using your hands?”

Moaning, Harry tipped his head forward and looked at his plate. His mouth seemed to be dribbling verbal diarrhoea, and he couldn't bear to look up and see Ron laughing at him.

“I think there should be a fair amount; the champagne seemed particularly potent.”

Unable to believe that Snape was letting him off that easy, Harry glanced upwards. Severus looked at him and the corner of his mouth twitched, probably with amusement, and Harry nodded.

“As Ron well knows.”

“I've never been able to take that stuff.” Ron chucked down his fork, plate cleared. “I'm going to blame you for letting me drink it.”  
“What am I, your mother?” Harry gave him a two fingered salute.  
“Change!” Ron snapped, thrusting out his hand with just the middle finger stuck up.

They were surprised by a dark chuckle from Severus' corner of the table and, again, they both turned to stare at him.

“Look, is it really such a surprise that I might have a sense of humour?”  
“Yes,” Ron answered bluntly. “I don't remember you laughing once.”  
“No, that's not true,” Harry ruled. “He laughed at McGonagall's joke about the axe murderer with Trelawney in our third year.”  
“Remembering anecdotes about me, Potter?” Severus smirked.  
“No, I just... remember that night really clearly.”  
“You just never gave us much cause to think that you did something like laugh,” Ron smoothed over the moment. “And knowing your past... well, surely we'd be forgiven for thinking you didn't have much to be happy about?”  
“Well, you'd be correct, Weasley, in that respect. But the war is in the past, as you both clearly well know. Before it, you were set on heterosexual courses with prospective wives and your lives almost written out for you. So people can change, can't they?”

“Definitely,” Ron nodded, lifting his glass at Severus and toasting him. “I like you more with every word, Snape.”  
“Not as much as you liked him and his tongue last night,” Harry blurted, and it was his turn to be stared at.

And then they were all laughing. Harry snorted into his palm and knew they were attracting stares in the pub, but oddly he didn't care. He reached for his pint and took a sip.

“And, imagine you'd woken up next to Betty from HR,” Ron whispered loudly.

Harry nearly choked on his beer.

“Heaven forbid,” Severus said, shuddering. “Though I think we're being unfair. We all have our imperfections. Just poor Betty's are that her eyes are permanently crossed.”  
“You wouldn't know where to look,” Harry burst out, which set the other two off laughing again.

It was the oddest lunch of his life, Harry surmised, but as he looked up at Ron's rosy face, and Severus' dark eyes crinkled with mirth, it was a lunch he thought he could happily repeat, over and over again.

* * *

“So this is where the masterminds of the Wizarding world's golden boys live, hmm?” Severus asked, looking interestedly around their living room.

Ron was tired. He was so tired that he thought he might drop onto the sofa and not wake up until Monday; it was an extremely appealing prospect. When the time had come to say goodbye after lunch, however, Harry had dithered and Snape had seemed in no hurry to get away. The question had arisen of coffee at theirs, and one thing led to another, and there they were, standing in their sitting room, and Ron _still_ wasn't in bed asleep, snoring away his hangover.

“Not so golden any more,” Harry said with a nervous laugh. “We get bollocked all the time at work for being reckless.”  
“The description 'gung-ho' has been used.” Ron made a face and kicked off his boots, which had been rubbing merry hell on his left heel all day, and the evening before at the ball.  
“Don't you know where the shoe rack is?” Harry snapped playfully at him as he headed for the kitchen.  
“Oh, I know,” Ron called back as he stepped onto the cool tiled floor and headed for the sink. “I just don't fucking care, Harry.”  
“I live with a slob,” Harry announced. “But with _his_ mother, it's shocking”  
“Leave my mother out of this!” Ron yelled back, filling the kettle. “She's obsessively tidy.”  
“Well seeing your living habits, it's no wonder!”

There was a low laugh from the other room and in spite of himself, Ron found himself smiling at the kettle in his hands. He _liked_ the sound of Snape laughing, he found.

“Bring biscuits!” Harry instructed.  
“When did your last slave die off?” Ron grumbled, loud enough to be heard, as he turned and started rummaging through their cupboards for an un-opened packet of custard creams.

He was lucky, he knew, to be living with Harry. Their bank balances were healthy. They owned their flat outright. They had plenty of money saved; they were safe. They could have what they wanted, not even necessarily having to think about reason and where the next month's rent was coming from. They were wealthy.

Ron had never been wealthy up until they'd moved in together, mitigated their possessions and incomes, and committed to one another. His belly gave a flutter when he thought about it.

He loved Harry very much, and, on top of the fact that the man they had slept with was their ex-Professor, he was nervous about the affect that their threesome would have on their relationship. They bickered, but they loved one another. He would be a liar if he denied the fact that throughout lunch he had sat wondering why Harry had permitted Snape into the bed, or why he himself had done so. Was something lacking for one of them? Was one of them unhappy? Ron wasn't unhappy, so was Harry unhappy? He couldn't bear the thought if he was.

Tight arms suddenly snaked around him from behind and gave him a squeeze. Ron grunted, full from his hastily scoffed lunch, and belched to the kitchen window.

“Charmer,” Harry said airily. “You feeling any better?”  
“Was until that.” Ron coughed. A sour taste filled his mouth.

Harry laughed in his ear and gently squeezed him again. Ron appreciated the warmth seeping into his back and closed his eyes, content to stand there as Harry began to kiss his shoulder through his t-shirt. A hand began to rub his belly in slow circles and a moan built in his throat

“Again?” Harry whispered, his hand dropping to palm the growing bulge in Ron's jeans.  
“Can't help it if you're sexy,” Ron muttered. “So sexy.”

He turned in Harry's arms and bent his head for a kiss. Harry tasted of the beer he'd drunk with his lunch and chips. Ron splayed his fingers into messy dark hair and kept his lover close, loving the way his tongue slipped between the man's teeth without any resistance at all. It was a kiss they had shared a thousand times before, but Ron felt immense relief that the passion and feeling within it was no different than usual.

At least in that, their night's play had not changed anything.

“Do you mind if I- Oh. My apologies.”

Ron nearly whinged when Harry jumped away from him. Possessively he reached forward and dragged him back, hooking one arm tightly around his waist. He captured his lips again and kissed him, Snape be damned.

“Insatiable, I suppose. I wish I had been integrated enough into society to enjoy being your age, when I was your age...”

Even Ron, determined on kissing Harry, couldn't miss the wistful tone of Snape's voice.

“I think that I should leave you to your... uh... leave you to each other,” Severus said softly. “Thank you for a... well, for an enjoyable evening and lunch.”

“You don't have to go.”

Ron was surprised that it was him that blurted the words, and Harry looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“I mean... if you want to stay. We've done it once... or however many times we did it last night, I don't remember... but...”

He shrugged and looked down at his feet.

“But why should I stand to come between two men who clearly care for one another very much?”  
“Nobody's coming between anybody,” Harry stepped in. “I mean... you're just not. Ron and I... we're... we're steady, and... I like that we can cope with this.”  
“With all due respect, you don't know if you can cope. It's the day after. What about tomorrow, or the next day, when you look at each other and remember how happy you each were beneath another man.”  
“Beneath?” Ron asked, surprised. “I went beneath?”

That explained the ache in his back passage which had been annoying him all day.

“Oh yes.” Harry's smile turned lascivious and his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. “You let him fuck you and it was...”  
“Alright alright,” Ron said loudly. “Calm down.”  
“You looked so hot that I'd let him bend you over the kitchen table and fuck you all over again.”  
“Do I get a say in it?” Ron asked, bemused.  
“Absolutely not,” Severus cut in, and they both looked at him. “A man like you should be tamed, Weasley.”

Ron hated to admit it, but his cock only grew harder at the thought of Snape 'taming' him.

“You couldn't handle me.” He smirked playfully and dragged himself up to his full height, which was around an inch more than Snape's.  
“Is that a challenge?” Snape drawled.  
“If you're man enough to take it.”

* * *

“So interesting to see the similarities.”  
“What?” Ron asked jerkily, tensing as Severus ran his fingers down the boy's crack, finding it hot, sweaty and unclean from the evening before.  
“Nothing,” Severus replied, cursing himself.

There had been a time when his lips had been the most tightly guarded of any; but over the years, he had found his tongue betraying him at the most inopportune moments.

“Similarities to who?” Ron tried again, and moaned as Severus rubbed a fingertip over his anus.  
“I think he's saying that you're not the first Weasley he's had over the kitchen table,” Harry piped up.  
“Potter,” Severus said sharply. “Enough.”  
“Oh god,” Ron moaned. “Who've you had? Who am I not as good as?”

Severus exchanged a surprised glance with Harry over Ron's outstretched, bare back.

“Nobody,” Severus said softly. “Absolutely nobody. You are a man in your own right... you are by no means lacking to anyone.”  
“I tell you this every day.”

Severus watched as Harry got down onto his knees and put his face to Ron's. Slim, manly fingers reached to cup flushed cheeks and held Ron's face in place.

“One day you might actually believe me, eh?” Harry said hopefully, before he leant in and gave Ron a kiss.

It should have made him feel nauseated to see their sweetness, Severus thought. He rarely allowed himself to remain in the presence of couples, and only the flowing alcohol the evening before had possessed him to go home with the pair in front of him. They clearly adored one another and he didn't know what place he had to wedge in between them.

Severus suddenly shuddered and pulled back, letting his oiled hand drop to his side.

“Where are you going?” Ron asked wearily, prising himself up with his arms. He let his feet take his weight again and folded his arms over his chest. “And why?”  
“This is ridiculous,” Severus backed towards the door. “You are clearly very much in love and I have no place in your home. I'm going to leave now, and we won't mention this again.”  
“But-”  
“I'm going,” Severus said firmly, balling his hands into fists. “Last night was the foolish result of too much alcohol on all of our parts, I'm sure you can appreciate that, Weasley, and how I might come to regret my decisions.”  
“Regret?”

Severus nodded curtly and turned on his heel. “I'll let myself out. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Snape, stop. Don't go.”  
“Weasley-”  
“Well, at least tell me which bloody brother!” Ron burst out. “I'm curious.”  
“Well, do you have more than one gay brother?”  
“I didn't know I had even one!”  
“Oh... well...” Severus bit his tongue and cursed his foolish mouth. “It was... a brief fling, against my better judgement. You can't have a relationship with someone _who is never in the country..._ ”

“If I had to sleep with one of your brothers, it'd be Charlie,” Harry said fairly. “Especially now I know he's a gayer like us.”  
“Oh my god!” Ron cried, throwing his hands up. “Is it National Make Ron Feel Shit Day or something?”  
“Stop being stupid-”

Harry's protests fell on deaf ears as Ron slipped past Severus in the doorway. Seconds later a door slammed.

“Sorry.” Harry looked down at his feet. “He's always a bit sensitive when he's hungover.”  
“I think he's sensitive over a few things when he's not hungover, too,” Severus said knowingly. “I really should go and let you... soothe him, I suppose.”  
“Ron knows when he's being a git.” Harry shrugged. “But you're right, think he'll need a bit of a hug to get over this one.”  
“We all do, at some point.”

_Stop talking. Simply shut your mouth and stop talking and saying ridiculous things._

* * *

“Budge up,” Harry instructed, poking Ron in the thigh.

With a grunt, his redheaded boyfriend rolled over and made room on the bed. Harry sat down on it and looked down into his face.

“Hey,” Harry said brightly. “Over your strop yet?”  
“Sorry,” Ron muttered, his cheeks reddening. “Snape gone yet?”  
“Not quite, Weasley.”

Harry enjoyed the jump of surprise which claimed Ron's body.

“You let him in our bedroom?” Ron asked warily looking at Harry.  
“Is that not allowed?”  
“No... I just... thought he was going, is all.”  
“And miss this scene of affection?”

Ron didn't have to look at the man to know he was smirking.

“There is something ridiculously sweet about you two and I hate myself for admitting it.”  
“And for being here, right?” Ron asked dully.

“Not quite. Not yet. Maybe later.”  
“Might as well take what you can get then.”  
“You know... I think I like the idea of having somebody to help me cheer you up...” Harry mused, reaching out to stroke his fingers through Ron's hair.

It was silk beneath his touch, despite a night of sweat and grease. Harry loved Ron's hair. Harry loved Ron and everything to do with him; his freckles, his eyes, his nose, his lips, his flat belly, his long legs and feet and his cock. _Especially_ his cock.

He bent down and gave him another kiss. “Beautiful boy.”

“Pull the other one.” Ron rolled his eyes.  
“You are.” A sultry voice made them both jump and Harry looked up and caught Severus' gaze. “Both... far too attractive for your own good.”

Harry watched with wide eyes as Severus bent over Ron and kissed him, his dark hair falling around both of their faces. It might possibly have been the most erotic thing he had ever seen, and he'd seen Ron's sexy striptease.

The kiss lingered and one of them moaned. Severus pulled up and just simply looked into Ron's face.

“Stay,” Harry breathed. “Stay with us tonight. Again, I mean.”

Before Severus could decline, Ron reached up and kissed him again, sliding his hand down Severus' back to grope at his bum.

Satisfied that the man wasn't going anywhere, Harry rolled off the bed to shed his clothing, already hard with anticipation at the night ahead.

_-fin-_   


 


End file.
